Page 150 of This Woman Forever
I don’t know what to do, how to act. Strong? Broken? Sad? The latter two are easy. But being strong? I’ve never faced grief with strength. I’ve hidden. Fucked. Drank. But now... now I have to be different.
I carried her to a private room because physical strength is something I could offer. I remained quiet while they checked Ava’s obs. I lost myself in my palms a few times when the tears were at risk of escaping. I feel useless, propped in a chair, trying to comfort Ava while fighting to hold myself together.
Vodka.
The thought jars me.
The nurse lays a gown on the bed, says something—I don’t know what—and leaves. It takes Ava to stand and start undressing for me to realize something is happening. She’s changing? I watch her, see her slow, lethargic movements, not because she’s in actual pain, but because she’s in fucking agony mentally.
I have to hold her up in both senses. I can be strong. Emotionally and physically. Because that’s what she needs from me right now. And because it isn’t just about me anymore. I have Ava.
I get up to help, to feel useful. “I can manage.” She doesn’t look at me.
“You probably can, but it’s my job and I’d like to keep it.”
Her whole body shrinks, her chin trembling. “Thank you,” she croaks as I remove her dress. Her chin drops to her chest, her eyes low. She doesn’t want to look at me. Or can’t.
I dip and nuzzle into her, forcing her face up. “Don’t thank me for looking after you, Ava,” I warn softly. “It’s what I’ve been put on this earth to do. It’s what keeps me here. Don’t ever thank me for that.”
“I’ve ruined everything,” she whispers. “I’ve lost your dream.”
My dream? Is it tragic that I feel like giving up on dreams? If you don’t find your dreams, they can’t be lost. If you have no faith, it can’t be destroyed.
I sit her down on the bed and kneel in front of her, my hands clenching hers. “My dream is you, Ava. Day and night, just you. I can manage without anything, but never you. Not ever.” Manage? Can I? Because my track record isn’t exactly shining. This is a cruel blow. I’m not sure how either of us will navigate this or get over it, but Ava needs to know that she is my priority. “Don’t look like this, please.” So broken and heavy with guilt. So... hopeless. “Don’t look like you think it’s the end. It’s never the end for us. Nothing will break us, Ava. Do you understand me?”
Her breath catches at the back of her throat, making her jerk as I caress her cheek, my tear-filled eyes staring into hers. I can understand her fear though. I stormed off, unsure I could ever forgive her, and yet now I’m professing my undying devotion. But it’s true. I could never not love this woman. “We let these people tell us you’re going to be okay, and then we go home to be together.”
She nods jerkily, dislodging more tears.
“Tell me you love me,” I order, desperate to bring something familiar and comforting to this whole horror scene.
“I need you,” she sobs, hauling me into her and cuddling me hard.
She feels so fragile and weak in my arms. “I need you too.” And I need her to let me look after her. “Let me get you into this gown.”
The silence falls, but it’s an oddly easy silence, yet at the same time, a really fucking hard one. I wipe the insides of her thighs with a cloth and slowly get her into the gown, letting the nurse know when we’re ready. Even if we’re not.
She enters, that sympathetic smile still on her face, and a doctor follows her in. I try so hard to stop it, but my body tightens, dread for what’s to come gripping me. He nods at me as he sits on the side of the bed. “How are you feeling, Ava?”
What a stupid fucking question.
“Fine.”
And an even stupider answer.
“I’m okay,” she says again, sensing my despair, finding another word for fine. “Thank you.”
“Okay.” He looks across her gown-covered body. “No aches or pains, cuts or bruises?”
“No.” She shakes her head, her hands fiddling wildly. “Nothing.”
He reaches for the sheets and eases them down to below her stomach, and I shift in my chair, uncomfortable, bracing myself for the tragic news. “Let’s see what’s going on. Would you like to pull the gown up so I can feel your tummy?”
I can’t sit here and watch this stranger poke and prod at my wife, all with the sole purpose of telling us we’ve lost something so fucking precious. Always losing. This is painful enough. I feel Ava studying me, pensive, and all I can do is wonder how I make this better. I can’t even force a weak smile to try and reassure her. Fuck, I need some air. My lungs are burning with the effort to simply breathe. Loser. “I might step outside.” I feel like a ticking time bomb.
“Don’t you dare,” Ava blurts, stopping my backward steps to the door. “Don’t you dare leave me.” Her jaw is between quivering and tightening, her eyes steely but watery.
She needs me.